Bird Brained in the Living Room

I mentioned the little beadboard cupboard above in my last post.  I found it on a trash pile outside an old church.  Judging from what I found inside, it was from a juvenile Sunday School classroom.  I think it has good karma!   I found the smaller box at Goodwill last week.  I couldn't find any reasonably-priced bluebirds to put inside, so I spray painted some Dollar Store birds instead.  Not very Elle Decor, but it works for me.

My livingroom used to be decorated in shades of cranberry and cream, as you can see in the memorial post to my Little Bit.  My living room is dark, because I have a porch across the front of my house.  The colors just contributed to the darkness, so little by little, I changed over to a blue, yellow, and white cottage-y look.  Finding the mirror for the fireplace helped brighten things via reflection.  The mirror looks fabulous with the glow of reflected candles in it when I put a candlestand down in front.   The whole area looks so much brighter.    Thank you Goodwill for $5.25.

I have to thank Daisy Cottage Kim for the bold use of color.  What a living doll that girl is.  My palette isn't the same, but she taught me how to make a room look like me.  I also learned that all the colors don't have to be "matchy matchy."  I wouldn't have picked up those shutters if I hadn't read her blog. 

My next three jobs are to paint the floor lamp white, paint the flagstones around the fireplace off white, and actually sew the chair cushion covers.  Don't tell anyone, but all I did was tuck the vintage sheets around the two old cushions.  I have to fix that before my friend Elaine, the professional decorator, comes for Bible study.  She is QUITE Elle Decor.  O! the horror if she fiddled around with that cushion!

Upcycled Blue Shutters

I never fail to be amazed at what folks put out for the trash.  Just off the top of my head, following are some treasured items I upcycled from the trash: 

a beautiful old door with a wonderful patina and estucheon plate (the decorative area around a door knob) that sits in my living against a wall
the headboard in one of the guest bedrooms
my coffee table
a chair with no bottom that I spray painted red. It sits in my front yard with flowers in the seat area
vintage suitcases
a vintage red checked apron
a folk art wooden heart
keys
the bottom of a Hoosier cabinet
a vintage 1940's enamel counter top
a chest of drawers
a vintage free-standing kitchen spice cabinet about six feet tall
a small beadboard cupboard from a Sunday School classroom which I use for diplays in front of the living room window.

Last night I was riding my bike at Merrimac Point and spied these amazing blue shutters on top of a trash pile.  I kept my fingers crossed as I raced home to get the jeep that no one else would pick them up. I couldn't see balancing five-foot high shutters on my handlebars.  My ceilings are 12 feet high,so the shutters fit perfectly in the area above the bookcase.  

This area is tucked into a corner created by the fireplace flue.  The bookcase is the main reason I bought the house, I just fell in love with the glass front and door knobs.  It is original to the house. 

C'mon Baby Douse My Fire

Did you know that a swamp can go on fire?  I know, neither did I, but if you think about it, the Irish heated their homes for centuries with peat, which is basically the same thing.  The Great Dismal Swamp is on fire and has been for weeks.  The wind has changed and for a second this morning when I first awoke, I thought my own house was on fire.  It is hot and the smoke hangs in the air like fog.   (pic courtesy of the Daily Press.)  The Great Dismal usually looks anything but, however, I have to admit that this pic looks very 1313 Mockingbird Lane (the Munster's address).

So today is definitely a good day for the crock pot.  About the last thing I want to do is heat the kitchen up.  Just to give you some ideas, I mixed a can of cream of mushroom soup, a half a can of wine, one teaspoon of marjoram, and a half can of water together.  I put boneless pork chops in the botton of the crock, then sliced raw carrots, then sliced raw mushrooms, and the mushroom soup mixture on top.

I don't always think "crock pot" in the summer, but if you think about it, this is a great time of year to use one.  The house stays cool and you can run off and do your summer thing, but dinner will be ready when you get in.  It doesn't get any better than that.

Carlos Wilson Died

This may not be a big deal to you, but it is a huge deal to all of us in the Tidewater area.  Carlos worked at the old-timey Cavalier Hotel in Virginia Beach for 73 years.  That is not a typo.  Can you imagine? He was working there when World War II ended.  I wrote about the Cavalier a few years ago. 
http://theviewfrom256.blogspot.com/2009/11/weekend-walk-in-virginia-beach.html

You can read about this inspiring man in my local paper, the Virginian Pilot here: 
http://hamptonroads.com/2011/08/carlos-wilson-mr-virginia-beach-dies-89

I am surrounded by Pilot people.  I went to church with Ann Johnson, the research librarian.  Nancy next door is an editor. Aaron and Kate down the street are two married reporters.  Dave further on down is another reporter. And then there's my friend Martin Smith Rodden, an award-winning photo journalist. Martin lives over in the next neighborhood. He took his wife's name when they married, which is entirely too 1970's for me.  Makes him sound British, though.  All Americans think that anyone British sounds really smart.  I am the Queen of the Parenthetical Thought, aren't I?  Seriously.

Here is Carlos' advice to all:

Remember people’s names.
Show up on time, and you’re 90 percent ahead of everyone else.
Do more than you’re paid to do. One day it will pay off.
Respect is worth more than money.
Lies beget lies. Tell the truth about everything; deal with it and move on.
Life ought to be something to live, not fear.
Slow down
Smile

Now if anyone out there in Blogville could tell me why on earth the Google widget below is indicating all these random stories insted of my previous blog entry about the Cavalier , I'll buy you an eclair from the Marietta Diner.  I'm lying.

Blowin' in the Wind

I got up at "o dark 30" (or Navy time), made some banana oatmeal muffins, and brewed a pot of chocolate truffle coffee.  This, kidlets, is decadence on a small budget.

I have an unsightly view of the compost bin from one angle on my front porch.  This was particularly bothersome because it is the view I see from my chair at the table. 

The answer, my friend, was blowin' in the wind, to plagiarize from, um....be inspired by Peter, Paul, and Mary.

The answer was blowin' in the wind....on a tension rod...hanging from cheapo chain from Lowes...with sale curtains from Walmart.

Just sayin'.

Water Water Everywhere

Karen Blixen, whose pen name was Isak Dineson, wrote Out of Africa.    She said, " The cure for anything is salt water, either sweat or tears or the sea."  Roger that. 

My earliest happy memories are surrounded by the water of Long Island Sound at Black Point or at the Atlantic ocean near the great auntie's cottages (Mercedes, Florence, and Peg) on Long Beach Island, NJ. 

Whenever I smell the scent of brine, I am 7 again with a sunburned nose.   I hear Taffy padding on dog feet across the kitchen floor, and see Kit's old wringer washer in the out building.  We used the roller to squidge the water from our bathing suits and hung them on the clothesline strung above the picnic table to dry completely. 

So it is no accident that I still live surrounded by water in Hampton Roads, Virginia...either the brackish Elizabeth River (which is actually a tidal estuary like the Hudson near New York City) or the Atlantic Ocean or the Chesapeake Bay at Fort Monroe.

My neighborhood is a peninsula surrounded by water which teems with life; fish, crabs, green herons, and this egret above foraging for lunch.

During my most troubled times, I am drawn towards contemplation along the water.  I am always renewed by it.  We are first created within water.  I think we want to return to it over and over. 

The voice of the LORD is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the LORD thunders over the mighty waters.     Psalm 29:2-4

Peddling My Backside All Over Town

I've spent a lot of this summer riding my bike everywhere.  Some place along the way, I got back in touch with the inexpressible joy I felt riding my banana bike on Knollwood Road in East Hartford when I was little.  We lived in a 1930's Tudor in those days with vintage cherry wallpaper in the dining room. 

I became curious recently about how many miles I was riding as I took off for Starbucks, or Merrimac Point or to church.  I follow a wonderful blog by an amazing woman named Sheryl Yvette who rides in New York City high heels and skirts. http://www.sherylyvette.com/
 I've also found that I'm more comfortable biking in a skirt and do ride in to church with higher heels. It appeals to the 1940's girl deep within that maybe others who once lived at the Old Shea House at 256 peddled downtown in the same way.

So off I went to East Coast Bicycles in the Ghent neighborhood of Norfolk to have an electronic odometer placed on my bike.  I took the ferry from Portsmouth across the Harbor.  This is what I saw as I waited for the ferry:

I love our working waterfront.  I road over this footbridge to cross the Canal in Norfolk:

Here is the view of the Chrysler Museum while crossing:

After lunch, I found this dim, cool garden area at the side of a Victorian museum.  I was happy to sit down for a few minutes.  My bike is there in the background.

 I forgot one thing.  The streets are all cobble-stoned.  I think I jiggled a few fillings loose!  I thought about all the people in the Netherlands who used bicycles over the same kind of streets during World War II.  Rubber was scarce and many road their bikes on the rims only, no tires.  MERCY!

I headed back to the ferry landing at Waterside here and waited to cross the River back home.  It was so hot and hazy, but I thought the pic looked good in sepia tones.  Over the river and through the streets to East Coast Bicycles I went.  And my odometer tells me that I've done 41 miles since then.

I-Need-to-go-Grocery-Shopping-Lunch Salad

Start with a large can of garbanzo beans (or chick peas or ceci, depending on your ethnicity). 

Add the drips and drabs that need to be used up from the fridge. In my case it was carrots, a green pepper past its first blush of youth, a chopped onion, some black olives, some sugar snap peas, a roma tomato, and some frozen corn.

Add lemon juice, olive oil, and your choice of spices.  I decided to go vaguely Middle Eastern with ground cumin, fennel seed, red pepper flakes, allspice, and salt.  Equal parts olive oil to lemon juice.  Toss.

Make grocery list.  Enjoy lunch.  Go grocery shopping.

Blowing Through the Jasmine in my Mind

Listen, I don’t tell everybody this so you need to keep it to yourself.  There’s a sound track running in my mind all the time, like I’m playing the musical score to my life.  Call me Henry Mancini or John Williams.  Well, no, don’t, but you know what I mean.   Well maybe you can, I wouldn't mind claiming Moon River as my own.

So I guess this blog post is my liner notes.  I hope that I don’t say a lot of obscure thank you’s to folks no one else knows about and make self-conscious references to inside jokes like the liner notes used to look like for Kenny Loggins and other artists when I was a kid. 

About two weeks ago, my soundtrack was playing “It’s Not Easy to be Me” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q896lBPRC60

by Five for Fighting and “One Hundred Years to Live” by the same group: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tR-qQcNT_fY&ob=av2e

I’ve been feeling the inexorable sense of time slipping away which is embodied in this haunting song.  I’m a sucker for a good falsetto and I love the music-box melody.  This era of my life will be over seemingly in a breath.  By the way, did you know that there are two kinds of time in the Bible…clock time and spiritual time?

http://homepage.ntlworld.com/stone-catend/2Times.pdf

What’s this week’s running soundtrack?  “What Do You Want From Me?” by Adam Lambert. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gt3yBQf7LqM
I don’t always notice the soundtrack while I bee-bopp my way along writing, working, traveling, or putting some wash in the front loader.  Just a few minutes ago I became aware of this week’s tune.  As I puzzled over it, because the songs always mean something deeply spiritual, I realized that my heart was crying out to God asking Him that question.

You see, we’re going through a difficult time at Chez 256.  I have been so angry about it that I’ve missed the spiritual lessons.   Today, I was praying with groaning too deep for words when the Spirit intercedes for us Romans 8:26 and 27.  And I got my answer, “pray for those who spitefully use you.”  That's what God wants from me.

You know those clever chalkboards made from vintage frames that I love so much?  God told me to erase the one hanging above the globes in the hallway that said, “He’s got the whole world in His hands.”  And then he directed me to write down the names of those I was so angry with and ask Him to bless them in writing.  So I did.

He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the LORD
and put their trust in him.  Psalm 40:3

168 Hours

We all have the same amount of time…168 hours per week. That’s the premise of a book I just finished:  168 Hours by Laura Vanderkam. 

In a different twist on time management, Vanderkam provides an excellent tool for analyzing your use of time.  I was chagrined as I read many accounts of highly-productive people; amazingly well rounded people, who manage to get it all done and then some.

I was reading at the beach, a deserted Chesapeake Bay beach that I sincerely hope never gets discovered.  I was so engrossed in her writing that the tide came in and engulfed my feet and bottom in the beach chair before even noticed it creep in. And no, I don’t get anything out of suggesting the book.

Laura Vanderkam has a website and blog as follows:

http://www.my168hours.com/main/
You can download a free weekly time log.  She examined a great deal of research which indicates that we exaggerate time spent in worthy pursuits and underestimate the amount of time we sleep or do less productive activities. Keeping a time log helps you get real. Vanderkam examines how we spend time from a philosophical as well as a practical view.

A close friend is going through a painful professional time.  I’ve noticed over the months, that he spends a lot of time being frozen, attempting the same report or task many times.  He has difficulty moving forward to completion because he is perplexed about the overall situation.
He worries about tasks, obsesses about them, asks questions, reviews, ruminates, second guesses himself and others, and then finally completes tasks under great pressure just prior to the due date.  In all, he spends ten times more time on the task than he needs to, because of all the negativity he feels.  Think I’m criticizing?  I can be just the same.

Confession: I fritter time away.  I am not disciplined. I don’t get to the things I value.  If I do get to them, I feel pressured and run through them like my hair is on fire.  My big time wasters?  Television. Specifically, Law and Order and NCIS reruns, however entertaining I find Mark Harmon to be. Trust me, really entertaining. Internet surfing vs. internet research.  Helping others prior to getting to my own responsibilities.  Procrastination.

I have a bazillion things I want to do…spending time with loved ones without feeling harried, community activism, decorating projects, trying out new recipes, working in my cottage garden, taking pictures, professional pursuits, and finishing my book.  God has a plan for my time and talents.  I'm not doing a very good job of following it. My tombstone shouldn’t read, “Here lies Annie…she watched a lot of NCIS reruns.”  Actually, I want my tombstone to read, “Hey, thanks for stopping by!”  Dare me.

So I’m analyzing my time, beginning Monday. My goal?  Accomplishing the things that truly uplift and fulfill me, and waiting until the new NCIS’s come back in September. It is only fair, if you think about it.  Mark Harmon isn’t home with Pam Dawber watching me.

The Help

Did you read The Help?  If you haven’t, run out and get it.  It is marvelous.  Even if you haven’t read the book, also run out and see the movie “The Help,” which is based on the book.   The novel examines prejudice, cruelty, kindness, and triumph in the pre-civil rights South.  In particular, the book looks at the lives of maids who worked for white families in Mississippi.

We had a housekeeper who came to live with us in the midst of this same time, just a few years after the setting of the movie.  Her name was Roslyn Brown.  We called her Rose.  She came while my Father was in Vietnam, my brother was perhaps 2 and I was 5 or maybe a bit younger.

She came when we lived in a small brick ranch near a military base.  My room had purple curtains with silhouettes of black cats on them and Chipper Hart lived next door.   My favorite show was Flipper (they call him Flipper, Flipper, faster than lightening…) and I missed my Dad a lot.

I just recently learned that Rose came to us via a work release program from the Hampton City Jail.    My mother’s choice to hire someone who had been in jail was completely uncharacteristic.  She wasn’t really able to explain to me why she did it, but Rose stayed with us for many years.

She was very tall and very large with long, slender hands that looked like they should be playing the piano.  Rose wore a garnet ring some suitor had given her; it was set in a gold knot with the garnet perched on top.  Frequently, she would refer to herself in the third person, as in, “Don’t you be back sassing Rose, now.”  She used to make candy for us on a large cookie sheet, sweet amber colored, vanilla flavored candy that she smashed into bits with a large hammer and stored in a large tin.  She loved to watch her stories while ironing; “Like sands through the hour glass, so are the days of our lives.”

Once as she stood at the kitchen washing her hands free of some sticky dough, my brother looked her up and down and said, “I don’t think it will come off,” referring to her skin color.  Another time he said reflectively, “Rose, you’re just sort of a big, all over freckle.”  She laughed and said, “I expect I is.”

Rose followed us as we moved from Virginia to Connecticut.  She was devoted to my brother and me.  I never questioned her staying on, but I marvel at the idea of her leaving her entire family and her home to care for someone else’s children.  The thing was, she never thought of us as anyone else’s but hers.  We were her babies.

In the movie, the main character ends up being fired and leaving her “baby” behind.  In my life, Rose left when my mother remarried and moved to New York with my stepfather.  She was never fired, but went home to become an African Methodist Episcopal lay pastor. 

Not long ago, I found an old index card in Rose’s angular, distinctive handwriting, listing the ingredients for a cake.  I had been looking through an old recipe file of my mother's.  I was instantly transported back to that time in my life.  I could see her right before me helping me tie a pair of red Keds.  She died when I was in my twenties from complications from diabetes.  I miss her still.

Monday Morning Glories

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.
His mercies never come to an end.
The are new every morning, new every morning,
Great is Thy faithfulness, O Lord.
Great is Thy faithfulness.

New Old Park Bench

This old park bench had been hanging around the garage for a couple of years.  I gave it a new coat of paint.  I found the fabulous green pillows at Goodwill for $5.25 with the original Pottery Barn tags still on them.  SWEET!

Vintage Signage

These two signs are a block apart on Warwick Boulevard in Newport News, Virginia.  I adore them.  In my secret dreams, I want to gather a historic preservation group together and start serving home fries, grilled cheese, and sliders at the old diner once again.

Hall and Oates had an album when I was a kid called, "The Abandoned Luncheonette." I think of it every time I pass the Blue Star.

Kitchen

I love Brenda's blog over at Cozy Little House where she is going through changes outside her control with a tremendous amount of grace.

Imagine my amazement when I saw this inspirational picture on her blog on Wednesday:

Here's my kitchen:

By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea

Sometimes people ask me how I come up with decorating ideas.  Mostly, I don't know.  I think I'm terrific at stealing, uh that is, gaining inspiration from decorating magazines. With this project, I can pinpoint exactly how it came together in a quick 13 years!

When I moved in to the old Shea House, my mother bought me a king-sized bed with a good mattress for one of the spare bedrooms.   The bed came headboardless.  That's a new word I just made up.  I toyed around with various headboard ideas like old fencing or one of the old doors stored in my garage, but nothing seemed quite right.

At the same time, I had access to some Navy charts from the decommissioning of the USS McKee, a submarine tender.  The charts were going to be discarded when they mothballed the McKee on the James River, but I knew that I could do something with them.  I was particularly fond of this chart of the approach to New York and Long Island Sound.  I spend many happy days as a child playing in Long Island Sound at Black Point (Niantic), Connecticut.  The back of the chart has quartermaster notes in black Sharpie magic marker, which I think is very cool.

My sister came to visit in June.  We took a long drive to the Outer Banks of North Carolina and stopped at a farm stand that had a lot of snarky signs about how many free samples one could take, that sort of thing.  The signs lack of customer service awareness bothered me, so we went to another, much nicer farm stand where I found the wonderful picture that says "you can't cross the sea by staring at the water."  I also found birch beer for Jason's birthday and some really fab blanched almonds.

In July, I was riding my bike in West Park View and came across two 1940 twin bed headboards sitting at the curb for trash pick up.  FINALLY I realized that I'd found the beginnings of my headboard arrangement. Two twins add up to a king. The whole idea still had to jell in my mind, but after 13 years, I was finally getting something together.

My first task was to spray paint the headboards red.  The posts on the bed are missing something, but I'm still not quite sure what was there.  A nautical theme made me consider using rope, so I ended up with this:

and this:

to hide whatever is missing.

I looked at Cottage Syle magazine

and Waterside Cottages by Barbara Jacksier

for further inspiration.  I saw a room in one of them with an old map hanging on the wall.  The owner had mounted some shadow boxes on  top of the map as if it was wallpaper.  That's how I figured out how to mount the picture on the chart.

I had a coil of rope leftover from Lowes and I'm cheap, so that's how I decided on "framing" the chart with the rope.  Contrary to what you read in high-end decorating magazines about "frugal" decorating, it isn't frugal if you pay $300 to custom mat and frame the cool chart you scored for free.

These, my friends, are all the clever, cheap, nautical, and I-don't-like-the-snotty-attitude-of-Powellsfarmstand reasons that this room looks like "me."  Next time, I'll show you what I did with the worn kindergarten "cubbies' thrown away during the renovation of Shea Terrace Elementary School across the street a decade ago. 

Can you do exactly this?  Nope, because this is my frugal decorating life.  But you can make your house you in the same way by keeping your eyes open for God's provision.  I once just told God I needed a cool new coffee table and found it the next day while walking the dog.

Dear readers, anyone with money to throw away can pay a decorator to buy $2,000 club chairs that they read about in Elle Decor.  But the home is the decorator's vision, not the owner's.  Only you can make your home uniquely Debra
http://debrasotherthoughts.blogspot.com/
or Judy
http://judyh58.blogspot.com/
or Brenda
http://www.cozylittlehouse.com/

 or Annie on a shoestring.  And that, kidlets, is real talent.

Little Bit 1997-2011